New Squid on the Block
by kamzimm
Summary: Jet is an Inkling who recently turned 14. Following his dream, he moves out to Inkopolis to become a Splatter, a professional Turf War player. But along the way he encounters a few snares, including rival players, crushes, a day job, and an old man who says he needs Jets help to recover the Great Zapfish.


I wake up to my alarm going off, the Squid Sister's new song blasting from the speakers as I drag myself out off by bed and walk over to the alarm, stopping as I see myself in the mirror. I look over myself, having gone through some major changes overnight. The most noticeable change other than my height was that my skin now has a light complexion, but my tentacles and eyes are still the same purple color they were when I went to bed.

I pull myself away from my reflection hearing the song ending. Even though I love the station, the DJ Zach has an awful voice and loves to hear himself talk. He sounds like running a screeching cat's claws along a chalkboard, yet I seem to be the only one bothered by it.

"And that was Callie and Marie's newest song 'I Ink Therefore I Am'," Zach says as he ends the song early, cutting of Marie's last note "As always it's now time for the news. Earlier today there was strange activity in Octo Valley, one of the sights of the-" I turn off the alarm, glad to shut that damn DJ up.

With Zach out of the way I go over to my closet, throwing on an old yellow SquidForce t-shirt and a pair of black shorts. Thankfully my clothes still fit, but they are a bit tight. Now that i'm changed and I know my clothes still fit, all I need to do now is to pack.

Ever since I was 5 and I saw my first Turf War, I knew I wanted to do that when I grew up. There's just something about all the color and the chaos that just entices me in a way I can't explain.

My dad was always more supportive of it than my mom, not to say she didn't support me. It was obvious to both of them the second I could, I would leave for Inkopolis and become a Splatter, a pro Turf War player. Dad was more than encouraging of my dream, but we both could tell Mom didn't want me to leave home, especially to some place as far away as Inkopolis.

Over the years they both have indulged me in my fascination with Turf Wars. Dad would always let me stay up late and watch Turf Wars on TV, no matter which teams were playing or how late it was. When I was 10 they took me to see the final match of the Turf World Championship in New Squidington. When I was 12 when we were doing some spring cleaning Mom found her old Turf War gear and let me use her N-Zap '85. I only fired it once before it broke, we both think it's jammed, but neither of us can find the jam.

Determined to do this I grab my duffle bag from Mom and Dad's room, which feels oddly heavy, and I start grabbing everything I'll need. After prioritizing I get all my stuff together. If I pack tightly there will be just enough space for all my most important items,enough clothes for a week or two worth, 500 coins, my Splatbook which a friend of mine modded to let me use as a tv, Moms old '85 which she let me keep as I can't cause any trouble with a broken shooter, plus my phone and it's charger.

I open my duffle bag to pack when I notice a note and a small wrapped box inside it. Confused, I grab the box and realise it's about the same size and weight as a shooter, but there's no way it could be one though, could it? I grab the note and read it, quickly realizing it's from my dad.

"Dear Jet," the note says in Dad's distinct almost illegible handwriting "I just wanted to give you this before you leave. I actually wanted to give it to you in person, but your mother would make me sleep on the couch for a month if she knew I got you one of these. Best of luck in Inkopolis, be sure to send me a postcard. Best of luck, Dad"

I turn the note over and find a bit more text on the back "P.S. I'll try sneak up to the bus station and give you the rest of the gear for it."

Confused, I open the package and find something I never thought either of my parents would get me, a new Shooter. I take closer look and realize it's only a Splattershot Jr. and as the name implies, it was a basic shooter for children to teach them how to use a shooter. You could theoretically use it in a Turf War, but no one would take you seriously. Then again, I've only used a shooter once, and it broke instantly. But on the other hand, neither did half the newbies, and most of them have top of the line gear.

It doesn't really matter either way. All that matters is I have a working shooter and I'll get the rest of my gear later.

"Jet, breakfast is ready!" Mom shouts from downstairs in the kitchen

"Just a minute, I'm still trying to find something that fits!" I lie through my teeth, buying myself some time to quickly stuff everything into my bag. Even though Mom knows of my plan, she isn't 100% on letting me go. Knowing her, she will probably try to guilt trip me into staying for a bit longer.

"Just try to be quick," she shouts back up in response "I made pancakes and if you don't hurry I'll eat them all myself"

It takes some tight packing, but i manage to get everything into my bag "Just give me one second"

Now with all the gear I'll need packed, I walk downstairs, mentally preparing myself for the inevitable argument that is about to take place.


End file.
